Willing (Peregrine x Ravenbelle)

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Peregrine, Jan 20, 2014.

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  1. Taking Over: Upon Gage Walker's birth, he is bound to an evil entity that has been roaming the world for millennium, looking for its one compatible host. Gage grows up normal enough, but when he reaches a certain age the entity begins to attempt to coerce him into hosting it, since this entity is only able to manifest its power through Gage. Able to sense it's evil nature he resists the temptations to use its power most of the time, but some of the time he fails, and the entity gets closer to him. Eventually, Gage decides the best way to make sure, once and for all, that this entity can never manifest is to kill himself. However, the entity will not so easily relinquish its host, and brings Gage back to life every time he kills himself. Gage reaches the conclusion, if he is going to try and die, he might as well make a difference in his death. He uses information that the entity gathers for him to find his way to a secret branch of the NSA. Displaying his abilities, Gage is quickly taken abord. But the DIA does understand the consequences of Gage using his abilities. They assign Agent Ivy Senther to gather as much information about what he can do as she is able. But what will Ivy do when she finally understands the truth? Will she be able to go against her orders, or will she watch Gage be taken over?
    #1 Peregrine, Jan 20, 2014
    Last edited: Jan 20, 2014
  2. In all honesty, Gage had been expecting something entirely different from the building in front of him. As a child he had reveled in spy shows, where the secret organization was buried deep underground or hidden in some abandoned warehouse. The last thing he had expected was a neat glass building, with the words "Department of International Affairs" labeled on a metal sign every five feet. It gave neat instructions, in heavy bold ink, on the proper procedure to gain entrance to the facility.

    Did you lie to me? The voice in his head only laughed, and Gage took a deep breath. His first instinct was to punch the chain link fence that surrounded the place, but the camera positioned less than twenty feet away made that seem like a poor idea to make a first impression. The second was to pull out the switchblade in his pocket and use it to slit his own throat, just to spite the creature laughing cruelly in the back of his mind. His ability to resist this urge was two-fold. First, even if he wouldn't die from it, the wound would still hurt like hell. Second, there was a very good chance that action would only serve to heighten the amusement of the thing laughing in the back of his mind.

    He swore under his breath, turning away from the building and pacing a few steps away. I should have known your help had some ulterior motive. You just wanted to waste my time.


    Even after all these years, the voice still sent small shivers coursing down his back. He had been listening to it since his early childhood, had learned to keep it secret less some well meaning individual decide he was crazy, and needed to be locked up. It had been his burden as long as he could remember. It was only in the past year that burden had started to matter more. Before, no matter what the voice did, it was only a voice, and had no impact on the outside world. Or so he had so dearly loved to believe. The first few weeks the dark voice's insistence that it could do things for him was easy to ignore. It had done nothing but try and get him in trouble from the moment he was born. Now, apparently, it wanted to get him locked up in a loony bin.

    He should have guessed that its desire to help would never lead to anything good. Because, as it had turned out, it could do things for him. It could do almost anything he wanted it to. But it only took him two days of experimentation to notice something that terrified him beyond all measure. The voice was getting closer. Every time he used its power it drew closer to him. For those few days, Gage was more scared than he had been since childhood, back when the voice would torment his sleep and leave him screaming from nightmares beyond comprehension. He was afraid it was too late now, that the voice was going to keep getting closer and closer until it overwhelmed him. And then it would be too late for anything.

    But the voice didn't get closer, and though it didn't tell him, Gage knew it only got closer when he used it, when he allowed it to channel its powers through him. For two months he was able to resist its constant whisperings. But when he blew up the building where he worked in a fit of sudden rage, he knew he wouldn't be able to avoid its temptations forever. It would slip closer, infinitesimally closer, until it was too close to resist. Because the temptation became harder and harder to resist every time he used the abilities. He was like a druggy with a shot of heroin always sitting in his hand and no one to take it away from him.

    The first time he committed suicide, he thought he had finally got one up on the dark voice. Now it would be lost. Maybe, with his death, it would even be killed. He slit his wrists vertically, deep and messy, and bled out on the kitchen floor in less than a minute. He woke up two minutes later soaked in blood, the voice laughing in his head, and not even a scar on his wrists. I'm not letting you go that easily, it had said.

    It took a surprising amount of will to kill himself, especially to do it repeatedly. He managed to try again four times over the next seven months, and each time had the same result. The idea to get himself killed by volunteering for dangerous missions in the government only struck him a couple weeks ago. Joining the military would take far too long, and there wasn't enough risk.

    The voice's willingness to help in this scheme was more than a little worrying. It had gladly provided Gage with all the information he could want, things that there is no way he had the right, or the clearance to know. Right now, though, he wasn't going to begrudge the opportunity. It had some plan for this, it always had a plan. And maybe revealing himself to the government was the worst thing he could do. But he would take any way to die that he could right now. And this was the best option he had.

    He took a deep breath, and walked back over to the sign. He read the instructions carefully before discounting everything it said. He pulled the switchblade out of his pocket and held it prominently in one hand. One more deep breath, and he walked brashly towards the man guarding the entrance. Either they'd kill him on sight, or they would imprison and speak to him. Either was a solution that would eventually lead to the desired result.

    And so he paced forward, with the manic laughter of an evil mind existing within his own haunting his every step.
    #2 Peregrine, Jan 20, 2014
    Last edited: Jan 24, 2014
  3. The man guarding the fenced and barbed wire compound's name was Paul. And Paul takes his job very seriously. So when he saw the stranger walking towards him with a knife, his large hand quickly found its way to his waistband, fingering the handle of the taser in its pocket. The guy looked normal, but he had been laughing a minute ago, and he looked about ready to kill. Paul thought it was the stupidest idea to try and infiltrate a government facility without any sort of secrecy about intent at all, but maybe...he wants to get caught. It's not Paul's job to consider his motives, though, so he did what his job demanded and shouted to the curly haired man. "Excuse me sir, but this is Government property and attempting to bypass security with a weapon and no official permission will lead to your eventual arrest!" Paul waited a few moments and when the man did not heed his warning, he stood at his post until the stranger was close enough for him to see the whites of his eyes, then he pulled out his taser swiftly and pointed at his target. "Sir, if you take another step I'm going to have to--too close." The metal jabbed into Gage's skin and took him down easily while Paul looked on as if the guy was insane, which he certainly seemed to be at the moment.

    The guard pulled out his walkie talkie, informed the other guards of the event and soon enough, the taser was pulled out of the limp stranger and he was roughly carried into the compound by two men dressed in black like him. Paul gave them a nod as they reentered the facility and smiled to himself. Nothing that exciting had happened since he started working here.
    The Head of the Department of International Affairs was immediately informed of the attempt at intrusion and grit his teeth in annoyance. He hated having to deal with these types of annoyances. Who would seriously try to mess with the DIA with a pocket knife?!
    He was no idiot though. Surely this man wanted to be caught or maybe he was psychotic and somehow escaped from a nearby mental asylum they'd easily return him to. If it was the first, Mr. Grene would not take it lightly. An interrogation was in order, even if it turned out to be a waste of time. information on the intruder was swiftly passed around the building by word of mouth, but the ever-competent Ivy Senther paid no mind to the rumor mill around the office. If she was meant to know, Mr, Grene would tell her what she'd need to know. She continued her investigative work on her modern computer until he finally came to address the matter with her. The man had apparently woken up and been handcuffed to the chair inside a soundless room with a panel of two way mirror. Mr. Grene who trusted her most of all of his employees, led her to observe the interrogation with him in the room with the mirror. On their way there, he sounded irritated about the fact that it could be a waste of time, but they were to take precautions whenever it may be necessary. Ivy simply nodded, following him into the room beside the one with the man who had been electrified. Her boss sat beside her and she crossed her legs, hoping this would end up being nothing so she could return to her work. The line of questioning began with one of the men dressed in black from top level security. Both Ivy and her boss could hear and see everything that transpired in that room.
  4. The taser was not an entirely unexpected maneuver, and Gage fell to the ground spasming as the electricity coursed through his body. He didn't even have a chance to make a sound as he fell to the ground. He would have laughed at the fact that they were now going to have to carry him into the building instead of allowing him to walk under his own willpower, but the world was fading away around the edges of his vision. Within a half second, he was unconscious.

    When he woke, Gage found himself handcuffed to a chair in a small room. He had never been inside an interrogation room before, but he had seen enough TV shows to know when he was in one nonetheless. His eyes drifted briefly around the space before coming to rest on the mirror, or should he say glass, that took up most of one wall of the room. If there was not someone in there, by the time his interrogation began there would be.

    Do you want me to tell you if there is someone in there?

    The voice was always all the more suspicious when it was trying to be helpful. For a moment Gage allowed himself to be tempted, but he dismissed the notion quickly enough.

    Do you not trust me?

    No. Gage replied promptly. The voice seemed to not deem that particular answer even worth a response, because he got no more offers for help from it. He might almost have been tempted to think that it was pouting, except he knew that such things were probably beyond it. But, if that was how it wanted to play it, Gage would take its silence with open arms.

    Gage's interrogator walked into the room less than ten minutes later. There was almost nothing to be able to tell him apart as a unique person, except for a small scar on the right side of his face. The blank look in his eyes startled Gage, and for a moment he wondered if he had made the right choice. But it was too late to go back now. He stared blankly at that scar, taking it as a touch of humanity.

    The guard's expression also clearly said that he expected to get nothing from Gage, and was only questioning him because he was under orders. That, at least, he would be able to avoid. The first question was predictable enough. It was Gage's answer that made the conversation take an unexpected turn.

    "Why were you trying to come into this building?"

    "Well, in all honestly, I was kind of hoping that you would kill me." His face was perfectly open and honest, and he could not deny a small amount of pleasure at seeing the flicker of surprise that crossed over the guard's face.

    "I'm sorry, could you repeat that."

    "I want you to kill me."

    This time, goon number one's expression did not falter. Maybe he believed that Gage was trying to pass off his apperance on an excuse, or maybe he simply wasn't important enough to be allowed to have an opinion. Either way he was useless for both Gage's, and the dark voice in his head's, purpose.

    This time, when it began to speak to him, Gage didn't try and ignore it. In fact, he embraced the words, quoting everything that was told to him cleanly and efficiently.

    "Well, since you aren't going to believe me, I see no reason to waste my time with you. Mr, Grene, Ms. Senther, why don't you come out from behind that two-way mirror and talk to me. Unless of course, you'd rather me continue to speak to Mr. Thornton here, who only has... security clearance one?" The look of vain disdain that touched Gage's face was completely unexpected. Words were one thing, but expressions? He recoiled quickly from the voice in his head, briefly touched with a moment of panic. Had he made another mistake, and allowed it even closer to him?

    But he was so deeply committed now that there was no way to back out. No doubt he had given the people on the other side of the glass just as much of a fright as he himself had felt just moments ago. Perhaps they might even find a reason to kill him. If they could succeed.
    #4 Peregrine, Jan 24, 2014
    Last edited: Jan 24, 2014
  5. Ivy and Mr. Grene looked on incredulously at the suicidal man before them. Of all the places to kill yourself, why come to the DIA? The man sounded sane enough, but at this point, Mr. Grene was pretty sure they'd just send him to an asylum and be done with all of this. Ivy on the other hand, wasn't so sure. There was something about him that screamed danger. She wanted to make the interrogator ask more questions. We don't even know this man's name yet! Then suddenly, the handcuffed man shocked his audience again, making Ivy grip the sides of her chair and lean forward. Surely he didn't really know her last name!? She's never seen this guy in all her life! And Mr. Grene and Thornton looked equally appalled. Sure, if this guy had been awake on his escort inside the building, he could have spotted their names on the way in on some plaque or whatever, but he wasn't awake and he wouldn't know anything about Mr. Thornton, much less his rank in security.
    Mr. Grene, a well built and short tempered man, knew he was doing exactly what this guy wanted, but there was no way he would sit back and let this goon ask more pointless questions that would only serve to aggravate him further. Ivy followed him until they were standing right outside the door. Mr. Grene held his arm out to keep her from entering and she glared. "I can't let you in there Miss Senther; he may be dangerous." She crossed her arms and gave him a look. When he didn't let her through with that she grit her teeth and grumbled. "With all due respect Mr. Grene, do you underestimate your most trusted and well trained employee here?"
    He sighed, opened the door and let her through first. She immediately slammed her palms on the desk and set her boiling chocolate eyes to his as her curly red ponytail swishedand landed on her shoulder. "How the hell do you know our names?" She snapped, fearless and biting."And what else do you know? She growled before feeling Mr. Grene's large hand pull her away by her shoulder. She stepped back reluctantly, boots clicking on the floor as her glare stayed connected to his eyes. Mr. Thornton was pale as he stood, arms folded by the door as the others took over the interrogation.
    Mr. Grene gave Ivy a stern look and crossed his arms, staring down the stranger. "Who are you?" He asked with his intimidating black eyes and deep voice.
  6. Gage had never been known for his bravery, but he still found himself somewhat embarrassed when he flinched as the agent lunged at him, slamming her hands down on the table. He would have thought, with the dark voice in his head and the knowledge that no one could really hurt him, he might have been brave to the point of stupidity. Such was not the case. He was just as glad whens he was pulled back by the boss, but the glare that the man fixed him was no more reassuring.

    You got what you asked for, he scolded himself silently, trying to ignore the hints of the voice in his head that he should show them exactly who they were dealing with. Information might be mostly free of cost, but powers certainly weren't. Except for his immortality. That one was a bonus he would rather not have. But that was what he had, whether he liked it or not, and that was what he would have to work with. Which meant he had to find a way to get these by-the-book government employees to kill him, or find a way to kill himself. All while handcuffed to a solid steel chair.

    I could fix that problem. It wouldn't cost hardly anything.

    Gage ignored the voice and turned his attention to the agent standing before him. He took a deep breath, and blandly began the script he had planned out the week before. "My name is Gage Somner, and technically I'm nobody. I work down at the local Best Buy, for minimum wage, and my boss barely knows my name. But I wish that meant I was unimportant. I'm not. I'm very important. Because I'm immortal.

    "Believe it or not, I'm honestly trying to help you by coming here. I know the kind of covert things your department handles, and having a man who can't die out on the field would be a great asset. You can send me away, send me to an insane asylum, but I want to die, and taking me there won't stop me from continuing to try and kill myself. The least you could do is allow me to finally kill myself in a useful manner."

    He said the whole thing on three breaths, visualizing his neat handwriting on lined paper as he spoke. Right now, he didn't know if it was going to be enough. They would never believe him. And he might have to get drastic. But not, he scolded, before the voice even had a chance to offer, that kind of drastic.
  7. Ivy smirked at the way the stranger flinched away from her harsh entrance and pouted when her boss pulled her away to ask a most important question of his own. The man answered as if he was a robot, like it was a script, planned and flawless.
    Except it wasn't. Ivy crossed her arms and averted her gaze from the man. He had to be insane, but the fact that he'd known her name unnerved her. Could there really be something special about this man?
    No of course not that's bullshit. he's making this up because he's a suicidal weirdo who wants to die in an uncommon way. The compassion inside the girl made her want to try and convince Gage to live, but the way he spoke, his confidence and relaxed posture persuaded her not to.

    Mr. Thornton by the door started muffling laughter by the time Gage had finished his little introduction. Mr. Grene silenced him with a single look and then silence reigned in the interrogation room. She had noticed how he set his jaw when Gage pretended to know more than he should about this part of the government. he didn't want to send him away anymore if he claimed to have valuable information. When his dark eyes met hers, she shook her head infintesimally, refusing to let him believe a word of his idiotic story. What is he doing?!

    Mr. Grene always seemed to have a bit of an open mind about this sort of stuff and if there seemed to be a threat against the DIA, he was going to keep a close eye on it. Keep your friends close and enemies closer.

    "I would send you away, Gage, but you intrigue me." Mr. Grene informed him, black eyes narrowed. Ivy widened hers and sent him a look that clearly stated 'Are you crazy?'

    "How do you know about our names? What makes you think you're immortal and how the hell do you know our names?" He asked all at once, firing his questions like darts at a handcuffed dartboard
  8. Gage's natural instinct was to recoil from the questioning. This voice had been with him all his life, and the few tries where he had attempted to explain his situation had ended in nothing but disaster. So, whenever he wound up doing something weird, he quickly came up with excuses to cover it, or way to skirt around anything that might be thrown at him. It took almost as much will to look into the man's eyes and answer his questions honestly as it had to kill himself the first time. In some ways the thought was funny, but mostly it was just sad.

    "I know I'm immortal," Gage replied as calmly as he could, putting emphasis on the word 'know', "because I have tried to commit suicide five times in the last seven months, and I've never managed to stay dead for more than five minutes." A shiver passed across him and his eyes flicked away as his mind quickly flashed back to each of those events: the knife in the kitchen, the bullet in the middle of the woods, the power cables, the drain cleaner, and most recently, the coal train passing by the outskirts of town. Some of them had been relatively easy. Others had been very, very hard. Gage swallowed, tried to rub the side of his head but hit the end of his cuff, and finally looked back towards Mr. Grene.

    "The reason I know your names, the reason I know far more than I should about the DIA, is because information is free. Everything else I could try and do would have a cost, a bad cost, but I can ask for information, and there is no negative effect." There was no doubt his answer was a bit of an evasion, but he did not want to think about what any of them would say or look like if he said he had a voice in his head. They already believed he was crazy. And weren't voices always the first sign of madness?

    He would explain about the dark voice soon. Not now. Perhaps not for a little while. But they would need to know at some point, if they were going to be able to fully understand him. He would tell, he protested to the dark laugh that echoed in his mind. Why do you find everything do damn humorous?
  9. Ivy could tell this Gage guy was getting kind of nervous under Mr. Grene's intimidating stare-down, but he answered their questions anyway. Ivy listened closely and Gage only continued to persuade her of his insanity. Sure he couldn't stay dead...maybe he just didn't try killing himself hard enough. If someone found him, the hospital would have been able to save his life, even if five times seems a bit unlikely. you'd think he'd had learned from the last time...but then again, he's crazy. Who knows what he did?

    The part the redhead was most interested in though, was how he knew what he knew, but his answer only succeeded in raising more questions. Before her boss could say anything, Ivy stepped forward and stood calmly in front of the cuffed man, arms crossed. "No negative effect of what? Where are getting your information?" She glared, deadly calm. If her first outburst had been scary, then this was absolutely terrifying. Ivy can conjure the best dirty looks when she wants to.

    ((sorry for the shortness i didn't know what else to say))
  10. Gage's eyes dropped quickly, unwilling to meet Senther's cold glare. Yet the sound of her voice, icy as a midwinter day in the arctic, somehow calmed his nerves. Perhaps it was the clear parallels between her new tone and the voice in his head. And maybe that should have scared him all the more, but at least the voice was familiar territory, and he knew how to deal with the fear it inspired. He forced himself to look back up and meet her eyes. He no longer had the right to be a coward. That had been taken away from him the moment he had entered the room. No, that right had been taken away the moment he had been born, the moment the dark voice had attached itself to him. He just hadn't realized it yet.

    Good, the voice intoned in the back of his mind. Gage ignored it, and ignored the foreboding promise in those words. Perhaps that was why it had been so willing, perhaps even as far as eager to get Gage into this situation. It needed something to force Gage to act, and apparently this would be what did that. And for a moment, he would have to place his faith in this voice. Because the two agents were trapped in the reality they had always known. No matter what he did, no matter what he said or threatened to do, they would never view him as anything beyond a madman, looking for something that they would not grant him. Logically, they would only lock him up, and if he was unlucky they might lock him in a place where he would have no chance to be able to prove what he could do. Eventually it would get to him, and he would welcome the dark voice a step closer to himself. He could not risk that.

    By now he should be immune to the fear of pain. Yet he still felt his palms go sweaty as he contemplated what he was about to do. But the silence was stretching on as the three people in the room waited for his answer. You had better want this just as much as I do, or this plan will entirely backfire. The voice chuckled, clearly satisfied with his plan.

    I'll do it, the voice agreed.

    Gage swallowed, but leaned himself forward in his chair. At the same time, he moved his hands backwards, bringing his fingers together and tucking the palm of his hand, knuckles and thumb bone behind the large metal pole that made up the back of the chair. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said, "so perhaps I'll have to show you." He grinned weakly, before steeling himself for what he had to do. And then, in one fluid movement, he threw himself backwards, pushing off the ground hard with his feet.

    For a moment, he thought it wouldn't work. The heavy chair hovered on the verge of tipping over backwards for a split second, but Gage threw his head back the rest of the way, and the sudden shift of mass was enough to send it toppling over. It took all his self control not to move his hands. And then, with a violent crunching noise, the heavy metal shattered almost every bone in his hand. Gage screamed, pulling his maimed hands out from under the chair, and out of the cuffs that were now too large to stop his hand from slipping through. He curled up on the floor, holding his hands close to his body. Already the pain was starting to fade, and he could feel his hands reforming, bones moving back into place, torn skin and tendon knitting back together. A few moments later and his breathing had stabilized, the pain only an echo. He let out a breath, and wobbily pulled himself back into a sitting position. "There," he said, displaying both fully intact hands for inspection. "Tell me now that I'm crazy."
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  11. At first, Gage backed down from her look as expected, but then he stared back at her. Ivy's eyebrows raised. Not often does she get that. There was something new in his eyes. A sort of determination. his intentions seemed to have been decided on, his actions set. He seemed a bit nervous about this decision, but Ivy waited patiently, unlike her boss beside her. Mr. Grene tapped his foot on the hard floor and Mr. Thornton stayed ready for anything.

    Gage leaned forward in his chair peculiarly. What is he trying to do now? He told them he'd have to show them so that they'd believe, but how would be possibly---
    Ivy's train of thought derailed mid-sentence as she watched this crazy man throw himself backward and shatter his hands. The crunch of bone rang in her ears as Gage screamed and slipped his mangled hands out of the cuffs. The redhead stood frozen, eyes wide and panicked at the sight of his fractured fingers. Mr. Thornton scrambled forward and to Gage's side of the table, but he seemed at a bit of a loss for what to do. There's no sort of a protocol for immortals whose hands are reforming as they watch in horror.
    Mr. Grene winced for a moment, but he loved horror movies and so this wasn't that big a deal. Just a shock and definitive proof that this man is something extraordinary.

    Ivy turned around and her back faced the rest of the group after Gage displayed his perfect hands. "Excuse my language, but the fuck just happened?" She muttered, gory hands still flashing behind her eyelids. Her heartbeat was still quick, but Mr. Grene ignored her statement and stepped toward the clueless guard and the immortal man across the table, gazing at him inquisitively. And then, he gave the man a slow clap, a slow smile forming on his lips. "Okay Mr. Gage, you sure proved your point, but if anything, this just makes me even more curious." He rubbed his chin, debating on which of the millions of questions to ask. "Why is it that you want to die? If I had that kind of power I probably wouldn't be very suicidal.."

    Ivy shook her head minutely, gritting her teeth at her boss's immaturity. When he gets wrapped up in something, he gets real tangled. And she always has to be the one to pick up the leftover string. She would have interrupted, but she was still trying to compose herself. The DIA deals with information, not action. His hands quite scared her, but she didn't want anyone to see it.
  12. Gage looked up at Mr. Grene, bringing his knees up to his chest and tucking his newly healed hands safely under his armpits. He rested his elbows on his knees, and looked down at his fett. He flinched, however, when the agent began to clap, his breathing accelerating, and it took him a moment to calm down again. There was so much adrenalin pumping through his system that it was a miracle his heart hadn't exploded. Not that it would do him any good if it did. The voice would simply put it back together again, like some absurd egg.

    The voice was praising Mr. Grene's resolve, saying that he would make a wonderful tool to sculpt Gage. Gage, of course, was doing his best to ignore him. He bit on his lower lip, trying to distract himself. When that didn't work, he devoted all of his attention to Mr. Grene's words. It took him a few moments to try and come up with a good answer, but when he knew what he wanted to say he hesitantly began to speak.

    "You know that saying that there is no bad power, only bad men? It is a lie. The power inside of me, the power that is being channeled through my body, it is evil. There is no other word for it." Gage pulled his knees in closer to his chest, untucking his fingers and lacing them around his legs. He wanted to curl up into a little ball, retreat from the world, but he couldn't. He had to find a way to explain to them.

    "This power, it wants to destroy the world. And I don't want to let it. So I... I've been trying to kill myself, so that it would no longer have a way to manifest. Then the threat would be over. Maybe the power would be destroyed. But it won't let me die. Every time I kill myself, any time I even wound myself severely, it heals me. I'm hoping, under the right circumstances, at the right moment, I may catch it by surprise and it won't have time to heal me before I'm gone for good."

    He left out the voice tormenting his mind. That was personal, and had nothing to do with their questions.

    "Manifesting the power in the world has a cost, but so long as it stays within my own body or mind it doesn't make any difference. That is what I meant when I said information is free."
  13. Mr. Grene was intrigued, but not stupid. He knew this man was probably very dangerous with this kind of power, but he was for some reason, not afraid. Maybe it was the timid way in which the man behaved. Though it could be an act, Mr. Grene went with his gut and decided this Gage wasn't dangerous by himself. This power was though and as long as it stayed seething within this body, Gage was a bomb. Bomb! that's it!

    "Well we could just blow you up. You body parts would go flying and you wouldn't be put back together humpty dumpty." Mr. Grene chuckled at his own comment and while Thornton walked back to his post by the door, Ivy whirled around and stood between Gage and her boss, this time looking up at Mr. Grene.

    "This is no time to joke around! Do you really believe him?! This stranger that just showed up outside the fence and played a magic trick on you. Excuse me for my behavior, but now is not time to act like an enchanted child sir. He said himself that he's dangerous. So we have to--to do something..like--" Ivy faltered. Mr. Grene stared down at her as if she was nothing more than a nuisance standing between him and his little science project.

    "Like what Miss Senther? What do you propose we do with him hm?" Mr. Grene countered easily, giving her an irritating smirk which quite honestly stumped her. Ivy shook her head, stepping away so she could see both of them.

    "I--I don't know. There's no protocol for this. But it could still be a trick or sham to keep us distracted or something." Ivy new it was a lame excuse for not believing in all this weird magic stuff even after the hands that still made her look a bit pale, but what could she say?

    "Okay I see your point. Why don't you watch over him then? I will have all guards up and my employees investigating. Lazy slobs they are. You, Miss Senther, are to stay beside Gage at all times and take notes on important observations."

    Ivy's eyes couldn't get any wider. "But--!"
    "No buts Miss Senther."
    "Shouldn't we--"
    "No protocol."
    "Mr. Grene we can't just--!"
    "Ivy. I can do whatever I want. Mr. Thornton, go get Miss Senther a clipboard will you? She'll be taking notes while showing him around the building. Don't show him anything too important okay?" Mr. Grene winked and promptly left the room behind the guard to yell at his employees at their computers.
    Which left Ivy frozen and breathless and alone with the thing that could technically be immortal.
  14. A brief flicker of fear passed over Gage's expression, and he felt his heart stop in his chest. Let himself get blown up? It was terrible. Terrible and impossible and... wonderful. And the agent might even be right. Maybe if he was blown up, even the dark power wouldn't be able to put his form back together if all the pieces were scattered miles apart. He giggled a little, strangely exhilarated by the idea of scattering himself all over.

    He was about to agree to the idea when Miss Senther interrupted with her own ideas on the subject. He waited patiently, eager to get a word in edgewise, but the two were quite enthusiastic in their conversation. And then he was distracted by something far more sinister.

    It wouldn't work, you know.

    What makes you so sure about that? Even you can't move all the bits of me back together.

    No, perhaps not yet. Gage shivered slightly at the certainty in that voice. There was no hesitation, not even the smallest hint of worry. It knew it was getting out, and for one moment Gage almost believed that there was nothing he could do. But perhaps I simply won't let your body tear itself apart in the first place. Or, maybe, just to see how much pain I could put you through, I'd make you regrow from one tiny fragment. All the information I need is in your dna.

    He let out a small whimper, and tried not to think about what that might mean. But he had to keep trying to win, even if the battle was only in his own head. How do I know you are not lying.

    When have I ever lied to you?

    You didn't tell me what using your powers would cost.

    That isn't a lie. You never asked. But I am telling you now, a bomb won't work any better than the train, or the drain cleaner.

    Gage clenched his teeth, trying to remind himself of the confidence that had brought him to this point in the first place. I have to try.

    Brave little mouse, the voice griped. But we will get where I want to go soon enough, either way.

    The two agents had stopped arguing, and it took him a moment to notice that it was now only himself and Miss Senther, who was looking at him as though he was some sort of coiled cobra. He gulped, but tried to smile. It probably came out more of a grimace, all things considered.

    "Was..." he began hesitantly, before swallowing and starting again. "Was he serious about the bomb?"
  15. Ivy was obviously unable to hear the conversation occuring in Gage's head and for a moment,cshe just stood there, trying to understand her boss's motives. Was he insane?! He's going to let him loose? And she has to stand beside him the whole time?! That's terrifying, especially after his performance pulling his hands from the cuffs.
    Her wide, blue eyes showedhim such fear until he spoke up, hesitating and nervous. She could see why Mr. Grene would underestimate him and...she hasto do her job. No matter how dangerous.
    "I don't know anymore." Ivy pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head, worried sick over her boss's immaturity and her own future. "C'mon Armageddon, get up...looks like you get the not so grand tour." She gestured for him to follow her out of the room, ponytail swishing and cliboard waiting by the door. She sighed deeply wondering just what she'd gotten herself into. She wasn't exactly sure where to start so she walked down the hall making sure Gage followed without any mishaps until they passed a plaque on the wall with 'Thomas Grene' listed as the head and Ivy Senther listed as Emloyee of the Month for most months. "Oh hey this must be where you got or names before getting handcuffed to that chair.." She griped sarcastically, pausing by the wall mentally nitpick all the flaws in her picture.
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